


Sunday Morning

by Spiraling



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Character, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Masturbation, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 17:13:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/738119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spiraling/pseuds/Spiraling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the les mis kink meme prompt:<br/>"Enjolras is asexual, but their relationship is still pretty physical-- there's kissing and tangled legs and forehead-leanings and whatnot. And when Grantaire feels the need, he'll jerk off; Enjolras sees him through it with a lot of non-sexual touching."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Morning

**Author's Note:**

> Link to full prompt [here](http://makinghugospin.livejournal.com/11823.html?thread=4110639#t4110639). The title came from the comic linked to in the prompt ([link](http://muura.deviantart.com/art/sunday-afternoon-269245930) if you're lazy) (which is nsfw by the way)
> 
> We're going to pretend that Enjolras isn't out of character in this and instead just go along with the head canon that he's really mild mannered and loving in private okay? Okay.

There was warmth, an unexpected warmth, that staved off the familiar chill of the mornings. There was movement, ever so slight shifting, a barely-there sensation of rising and falling. There was that beautiful scent in the air, the one that went to Grantaire's head and intoxicated him faster than any alcohol could ever hope to. There was a smile on Grantaire's face before he was even fully aware that he was awake.

It was rare that Enjolras spent the night in Grantaire's flat. Most of the time he had tests to study for, papers to write, protests to orchestrate, early class the next morning; one thing or another would always force the blond to his own home for the night. Grantaire never complained, never got jealous. Enjolras's passion and dedication were at the top of the long list of things Grantaire loved about him, and the time they did spend together during the day, when Enjolras focused all of that passion and dedication on Grantaire and Grantaire alone, was more than enough to tide him over through the nights alone.

But oh, how Grantaire loved these times, these scarce occasions when he would wake up expecting to be greeted by the cold tangle of sheets, sprawled out alone across his too large bed, and was instead met with arms and legs wrapped around his own and a warm chest in place of his pillow.

"G'morning," he mumbled, sleepy smile still in place as he turned his head just enough to place a small kiss on his partner's bare chest. Grantaire knew that Enjolras would already be awake. It was an incontestable fact of their relationship that Enjolras always woke first, even if only by a moment. Sure enough, a pleased hum vibrated through Enjolras's chest in reply, and he brought up a hand to card his fingers through Grantaire's hair, gently pulling the brunette's head back until their eyes met.

"Good morning," Enjolras answered with a soft, sleepy smile, and Grantaire felt his stomach flutter in the same way it did every time Enjolras smiled at him. There were times when the mere thought that they were a couple was dizzying to Grantaire. He still couldn't wrap his head around it, even after they'd been dating for three months. It was so strange, to be able to lean over and kiss the fiery-eyed angel of his dreams whenever he wanted.

And if sometimes Grantaire would lean over and kiss Enjolras full on the lips in the middle of one of their activism group's meetings, in front of all their friends, just to hear Enjolras remind him - albeit snappily - that he could in fact do so whenever he wanted, and therefore didn't need to interrupt the limited time they had for their meetings... Well, Grantaire would never admit it aloud.

Now that the thought was in his mind, Grantaire couldn't stop himself from scooting a little ways up the bed and pressing his lips against Enjolras's in a good morning kiss. Enjolras smiled into the kiss, and Grantaire pulled back to admire the sight. Enjolras gave a small snort of laughter and rolled his eyes at the fond expression on his partner's face, but the gesture wasn't unkind. Grantaire pulled himself further up on the bed, laying his head on the pillow next to Enjolras's and turning to lay on his side, Enjolras following suit so that they lay facing each other.

Grantaire's eyes trailed down Enjolras's body, bare except for his boxers, just as Grantaire was. Hesitantly he reached out, ran his hand down Enjolras's side, let it rest on his hip. "I still can't believe how lucky I am to be with you," he said softly, eyes trained on where his hand laid. Enjolras gently tapped his chin up until their eyes met again.

"I still can't believe you accepted my terms so readily," the blond replied, the same amount of awe in his voice as in Grantaire's. The tone made Grantaire's heart ache.

When Combeferre had encouraged Grantaire to approach Enjolras with his feelings, assured him that Enjolras wasn't as easy to read as he seemed, and that there was more there than Grantaire saw, Grantaire had taken it as an assurance that Enjolras had feelings for him as well. So when he finally approached Enjolras and asked him to dinner, when Enjolras hedged and looked distinctly more uncomfortable than Grantaire thought he'd ever seen him before, Grantaire had panicked. The only thoughts going through his mind were that he had ruined his chances, that he had ruined what small bit of friendship he had with Enjolras, and that he was going to destroy Combeferre for giving him false hope.

In his panic Grantaire had apologised profusely, told Enjolras he didn't mean it how it sounded, and tried desperately to flee the situation. Enjolras managed to catch his sleeve as he tried to get away, pulling him back to the conversation. _"Before I agree to a date with you, there's something you need to know,"_ he had said. Grantaire beamed. All he'd heard was 'before I _agree_.' There was nothing Enjolras could have told him that would have made him recant his invitation. When Enjolras dragged him to a more secluded spot and explained quietly and awkwardly that he was asexual, that he was romantically interested in Grantaire but could promise him no sexual attraction or measurable sex drive, Grantaire had thrown his arms around Enjolras and pulled him into a hug. _"You really think that makes a difference to me?"_ Grantaire had laughed. He'd meant it, too. No sex was a minuscule price to pay for the pleasure of simply being with Enjolras, for seeing Enjolras smile at him, for twining his fingers with Enjolras's when they walked together, for waking in Enjolras's arms - even if that last one was only once every few weeks.

Grantaire hated to think that the perfect man before him had any insecurities, nonetheless over something as insignificant to the whole of who he was as his sexuality - or lack thereof, depending on how you looked at it. He smiled and brought his hand up to brush blond curls out of Enjolras's face and tuck them behind his ear. "Are you kidding?" he asked with a laugh. "I thought you hated me. Learning you just didn't like dating because you aren't into sex was damn near the biggest relief of my life."

Enjolras frowned. "I'm truly sorry for that," he said quietly, holding Grantaire's eyes intently. "Making you think I hated you. I never thought you would interpret-"

Grantaire interrupted him with a soft press of lips. "It's okay," he assured when he pulled back. He leaned in for a second quick kiss, and this time Enjolras kissed back. "It wasn't your fault." Another kiss, this one lingering a second longer than the last. "Everything's perfect now."

The quick, chaste kisses began to blur together until it was just one long, loving kiss, Grantaire cupping Enjolras's face with an open palm while Enjolras wrapped an arm around Grantaire's waist, tugging him closer. Grantaire thought that if he could only perform a single activity for the rest of his life, he would choose kissing Enjolras. It ranked higher on his priority list than eating, sleeping, speaking, or even breathing. He swallowed down the taste of Enjolras's mouth greedily, revelled in each nip of Enjolras's teeth at his bottom lip, the soothe of Enjolras's tongue always close behind.

Grantaire was happy to lazily go on for hours, especially on quiet mornings like this, not particularly caring what either of their mouths were doing as long as their lips were touching, but Enjolras was an impatient kisser. He pressed his lips harder against Grantaire's, earning an appreciative hum from the brunette. Grantaire's lips had long since parted, an invitation that Enjolras now accepted. With tongue and gentle teeth he slowly coaxed Grantaire's tongue past his lips, drawing it into his own mouth and sucking on the muscle lightly.

Grantaire gave a low moan. It was a habit Enjolras had, when they kissed deeply like this, that Grantaire wasn't entirely sure whether or not Enjolras was aware of having. He had a tendency to pull Grantaire's tongue into his mouth and suckle on it, miming another action which Grantaire was fairly certain Enjolras would never take part in. Whether the mimicry was accidental or not Grantaire had no clue, but it made little difference. The thought alone was enough to bring a blush to his cheeks every time, and as guilty as he felt for conjuring such images he could never quite bring himself to ask Enjolras to stop.

Feeling slightly more daring than usual on this particular morning, Grantaire pressed his tongue further in, licking at the roof of Enjolras's mouth. Enjolras seemed pleased by this, lapping at the underside of Grantaire's tongue before resuming his suckling. Grantaire's hips twitched forward of their own accord, and as his and Enjolras's bodies were already pressed flush against each other he wound up inadvertently rutting against Enjolras's hip. Grantaire's eyes widened and he pulled himself away from Enjolras, though not before he'd let out an involuntary groan. Somewhere along the way he'd started getting hard without noticing.

"Sorry about that," Grantaire mumbled, avoiding Enjolras's eyes. It was rare that he got visibly aroused while he was with Enjolras, but his guilt always managed to eat away at him when he did. Enjolras never judged him for it, never made a big deal of it, and didn't particularly seem to mind, but Grantaire still felt like a teenager who couldn't control his urges every time it happened.

"It's okay," Enjolras replied, the arm he still had draped over Grantaire's waist moving to rub reassuring circles over his back.

Grantaire pulled a small ways away, rolled onto his stomach, then scooted back over so that his side was nuzzled against Enjolras's chest. "Sorry," he said again. "Just give me a bit, it'll go away." He pressed his face into the juncture of Enjolras's neck and shoulder, breathing in the scent of his skin and content to simply lay next to him until his arousal diminished. Enjolras, however, seemed to have other ideas.

"No," he said slowly, his hand returning to Grantaire's hip and pushing gently until the brunette was up on his side once more. "It's okay." At the questioning gaze Grantaire threw him, Enjolras elaborated. "Touch yourself." The command was soft but it was, unmistakably, a command.

A blush rose to Grantaire's cheeks. Enjolras's face was a blank slate. This was uncharted territory between the two of them. Normally, when Grantaire's libido got the best of him while he was with Enjolras, he did his best to hide it or ignore it. Even when Enjolras did notice the state he was in, it was almost an unspoken agreement between the two of them that, beyond Grantaire apologising, they didn't speak of it. They ignored the problem until the problem went away, and once he was alone in his own flat Grantaire would take care of himself. Grantaire would never dream of excusing himself from time that could be spent with Enjolras for the sake of having a wank, and Enjolras had certainly never told him to do so before.

Unsurely, with the look of confusion still on his face, Grantaire started to sit up. Before he made it far, Enjolras wrapped a hand loosely around his wrist, and pulled him back down to the bed. With a quick kiss to Grantaire's lips, Enjolras whispered, "Here."

Grantaire's breath hitched. He certainly never expected that. "Okay," he breathed, erection swelling a little more at the mere thought. He settled onto his back on the bed, hands reaching down toward his boxers but hesitating at the waistband. "Are you sure?" he asked, glancing over to meet Enjolras's gaze. Enjolras nodded. Grantaire swallowed thickly, nodding to himself as he looked back down to where his hands hovered at his waist.

Neither of them had ever been particularly shy around the other when it came to nudity - they had no qualms about dressing in front of each other and although their relationship wasn't sexual it was still physical; they loved laying cuddled together in bed or on the sofa, stripped to their shorts, simply enjoying the feeling of skin against skin - but as Grantaire looked down at his lap, the outline of his cock visible through the cotton of his boxers, it occurred to him suddenly that neither of them had ever seen the other fully nude. Sure, there were glances here and there, getting in or out of the shower after one spent the night at the other's flat, but Grantaire always made sure to give Enjolras his privacy and never look too pointedly, as he was certain Enjolras did for him. Now he was preparing to pull off his last remaining layer of clothing, expose himself full-frontal to Enjolras's view and scrutiny, expose himself so Enjolras _could watch him masturbate._ Because it was evident now, from the way Enjolras gazed down at Grantaire, that Enjolras did plan on watching him. The thought terrified Grantaire almost as much as it excited him.

Almost.

With a steadying breath and a reassuring squeeze of his shoulder from Enjolras, Grantaire pulled his knees up to his stomach and tugged his shorts off in one swift movement, dropping them over the side of the bed before he could change his mind. He settled himself again, stretching his legs out before him and hesitantly reaching a hand downward, letting it rest on his hip, mere inches away from his quickly filling cock.

Enjolras was propped up on an elbow now, holding his chin with one hand and with the other gently grazing the backs of his knuckles up and down Grantaire's bicep nearest to him. The slow, barely-there touch gave Grantaire goosebumps and he shivered slightly, glancing up to Enjolras once more. He was mildly surprised to find Enjolras's gaze trained on his face rather than on his lap, but comforted at the same time. Knowing that Enjolras wouldn't be staring intently at his prick calmed Grantaire just enough that when he returned his own focus to said part of his anatomy, it was easy for him to take himself in hand.

Grantaire gave himself a few slow strokes, breathing deeply as he felt himself thicken in his own grip. Enjolras's fingers had wandered from Grantaire's arm to his chest, fingertips now ghosting down his side. Grantaire tightened his grip, surprised by the pleasure these small touches brought him, the tingling that spread across his skin in the wake of Enjolras's touch. Grantaire clenched his eyes shut to resist the temptation of raking his eyes down Enjolras's body, and soon afterward he felt Enjolras's lips against his shoulder.

"You can look at me," he said softly, almost unsure. "If you want." 

Grantaire stopped the movements of his hand, opened his eyes and turned them up to meet Enjolras's in a silent question, _Really?_

Enjolras gave him a soft smile. "You're my partner, Grantaire." Grantaire had learned early on in the relationship that Enjolras hated the term 'boyfriend' - specifically, at the end of their third date, when he had asked Enjolras, _"So, are we... boyfriends now?"_ Enjolras had snorted derisively at the question, and when he saw the fall of Grantaire's face quickly explained that he much preferred the word _partner_. Then he had leaned in and gave Grantaire the first kiss of their relationship. Now, he continued, "I'm not going to judge you for fantasising about me while you pleasure yourself. Just because I don't feel sexual attraction doesn't mean you're not allowed to." He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to Grantaire's forehead. "It's natural for a sexual person to think of their partner while doing such things." Grantaire only nodded - not trusting his voice to remain steady after Enjolras had given him explicit permission to fantasise about him - and rolled back onto his side so that he was facing Enjolras once more.

Enjolras dropped down from his elbow so that the pair were face to face, and Grantaire allowed himself to take in the sight, admiring each of the blond's features in turn as he began stroking himself once more. He drank in the close up view of Enjolras's smooth brow, bright eyes, sharp cheekbones, rosy lips, strong jaw. His eyes lingered on Enjolras's lips, his mind once more supplying the images that had gotten him into this mess. His breath hitched as he imagined Enjolras's lips wrapped around his cock instead of his hand, and his eyes slipped shut as his hips bucked forward. Grantaire kept his eyes clenched just long enough to shake the thoughts from his mind; even with Enjolras's permission, Grantaire still felt like he was demeaning their existing relationship in thinking of his love in such a way. When his eyes opened he quickly moved his gaze further down, pointedly ignoring Enjolras's mouth.

The hand that had been stroking Grantaire's side had migrated to his chest when he rolled, and now the backs of Enjolras's knuckles were grazing the expanse between his neck and his navel, though never going far enough south to interfere with Grantaire's own hand movements. Grantaire cautiously reached forward with the hand that wasn't stroking himself and mirrored the action on Enjolras. It was just a slow brush of his knuckles from Enjolras's collarbone down to his stomach; nothing inappropriate, but still Grantaire revelled in the sensation of skin against skin. His fingers hovered just above Enjolras's navel, and he glanced up quickly to meet Enjolras's eyes in a silent request for permission. Enjolras nodded and Grantaire turned his eyes back to Enjolras's chest, continuing in his gentle stroking.

While the brushes of Grantaire's fingers against Enjolras's skin were gentle, the tugs he gave his cock were steadily becoming anything but. He swept his palm over the damp tip, collecting precome to ease the slide of his hand on his length. He hissed at the touch, bucking into his palm before taking himself in hand once more. He tightened his grip this time, gave a quick twist of his wrist at the end of each upward stroke, soft moans falling from his lips at the friction against his sensitive head.

Enjolras's hand had slowly moved upward from Grantaire's chest, instead coming to rest cupping the side of his neck, and Grantaire distantly wondered if Enjolras could feel how his pulse quickened along with his strokes. Enjolras's thumb rubbed soft circles on Grantaire's cheek, and Grantaire let out a small noise that was something between an appreciative hum and a stifled moan. His eyes instinctively flicked up to Enjolras's at the comforting touch, and he found himself holding Enjolras's gaze as he continued stroking himself, mesmerised. Grantaire's breaths came quick and heavy now, and the hand that was steadily ghosting up and down Enjolras's torso had fallen out of any recognisable rhythm, then eventually stopped its movement entirely, instead pressing an open palm flat against Enjolras's chest. Grantaire's hips rolled forward, thrusting into his tight grip, and on a whim he surged forward to meet Enjolras's mouth in a quick, needy kiss. When he felt Enjolras's lips move to meet his own Grantaire chanced another kiss, then another; quick, firm presses of lips and nothing more, though occasionally Enjolras's tongue would slip out to wet Grantaire's lips for him, dry as they were from the panting breaths and moans that spilled from them in between kisses.

Their foreheads had pressed together as they peppered kisses upon each other's lips, and it wasn't until the backs of Grantaire's knuckles grazed the fabric of Enjolras's boxers on an upward stroke that he realised just how close they had become, and pulled away from Enjolras respectfully. They continued to hold eye contact as Grantaire's jerks became more and more fervent. Enjolras slid his hand up to cup the side of Grantaire's face momentarily, then let it fall backward so his fingers could wind into Grantaire's curls as he cradled the back of his partner's head. Grantaire moaned, his hips stuttering forward in response.

Somewhere along the way, without realising it, the palm Grantaire had pressed against Enjolras's skin had begun sporadically clenching and unclenching, grasping desperately at Enjolras's chest in time with Grantaire's tugs on his cock. Once he noticed he was doing this Grantaire pulled the hand away with embarrassment, tucking it up under his chin and gripping the pillow beneath him instead. Enjolras's unoccupied hand, which had previously been tucked out of the way under his own pillow, reached out and took hold of Grantaire's, their fingers twining together and clasped hands resting on the bed between them.

Grantaire squeezed Enjolras's hand, clenched his eyes shut, and concentrated on the feeling of the tight grip he had on his cock, rhythm of his strokes long since lost, hips desperately thrusting forward in a futile attempt at more friction. His hand flew up and down his length, slicked by sweat and precome. Grantaire bit at his bottom lip as he felt his orgasm approaching, pivoted his hips so that his lower half was laid nearly flat on the bed while his upper half was still laid on his side, and with a drawn out moan he came, holding his pulsing cock close to his body to make sure he spilled on himself rather than the bed. Grantaire milked himself through his orgasm, holding tight to Enjolras's hand the whole time, and when he was spent he dropped his soiled hand back against the bed behind him, palm up.

For a while Grantaire laid there panting, feeling little beyond the way his entire body throbbed with his pulse. The first sensation he became aware of was Enjolras gently raking fingers through his hair, and Grantaire couldn't help but smile. He opened his eyes and met Enjolras's gaze, the blond smiling contentedly back at him. With a deep sigh, Grantaire turned his attention toward his stomach, where his seed was slowly inching down toward the sheets.

"Shit," he muttered. "Gotta roll onto my back." Enjolras, understanding, pulled his hand from Grantaire's hair, allowing the brunette to flop backwards and save his sheets from a wet, sticky mess. Still Grantaire stared down at the stripes on his stomach, sated and hazy brain trying to figure out how he was going to clean himself up. As if reading his mind, Enjolras let out a soft chuckle and sat up, leaning over Grantaire and over the side of the bed, grabbing Grantaire's boxers from where they had been dropped onto the floor, and using them to wipe Grantaire off. Then he balled them up, making sure the dirty bits were on the inside, and set the shorts down at the foot of the bed.

"Now I'll have to do wash before that dries," Grantaire complained as Enjolras laid back down, but his grievance was a weak one. Enjolras took Grantaire's hand back in his own and Grantaire gave a contented hum, seeming to have already forgotten that he was upset as he rubbed his thumb absently over the back of Enjolras's hand.

"Did you enjoy that?" Enjolras asked, after a few moments of comfortable silence. "Me watching you?"

"Yeah," Grantaire breathed, a giddy edge to his voice. Then he frowned. "Did you?" he asked, brow furrowed in confusion as he turned to face the blond beside him.

Enjolras nodded. "Not the same way you did, but yes."

Grantaire turned his eyes back to the ceiling, was quiet for a few moments, then turned toward Enjolras once more. "I'm sorry for being... touchy, I guess. And kissy."

Enjolras gave a soft snort of laughter. "It's perfectly fine."

"No," Grantaire insisted, turning onto his side and drawing Enjolras's full attention, the blond copying the motion. "I mean it. I'm sorry. I don't want you to think I was trying to drag you into it or force anything on you."

Enjolras's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but he quickly schooled himself into a calm expression once more. "Grantaire," he said seriously, "if I had thought, for a single moment, that you were the type of person who would ever try to force yourself - or anything I didn't agree to - upon me, I never would have agreed to that first date." He gripped Grantaire's hand reassuringly. "And you know me. If you ever crossed a line or made me uncomfortable in any way, I would make sure to inform you promptly." His tone was stern, but exaggeratedly so, and Grantaire laughed as Enjolras tried to contain a small smile of his own. The thing that calmed Grantaire's nerves the most, however, was the knowledge that despite the light air the words were said in, they were most definitely true. If there was one thing Enjolras would never have any difficulty with, it was expressing himself. Grantaire let out a breath of relief, then leaned forward to give Enjolras a soft kiss.

"So, if you don't mind me asking," Grantaire ventured curiously as he pulled away, "what exactly prompted all that?"

Enjolras pursed his lips in thought, seeming to pick through the words that appeared to him in search of the most sufficient explanation. "Your face is always very expressive," he replied slowly. His eyes roamed across Grantaire's features as he spoke, bringing a light blush to the brunette's cheeks. "And obviously I enjoy seeing you happy. What greater pleasure is there for me to see on your face than the pleasure you give yourself?"

Grantaire thought that the happiness he felt when Enjolras smiled at him was far beyond any physical pleasure he could ever experience, self-issued or otherwise, but he did not voice this opinion. Instead he smiled, gave Enjolras a soft kiss on his lips, then draped himself lazily across Enjolras's torso and began to whine loudly about his soiled pants and how he didn't want to do the wash today, earning himself a roll of Enjolras's eyes and one of those life-brightening smiles.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay disclaimer after the fact: being a sexual person in a sexual relationship, I will be the first to admit that I know very little about asexuality, asexual people, and asexual relationships other than what I've learned from google research and long, late night skype discussions with various internet friends who identify as asexual and are more than willing to educate the ignorant and curious (aka me). Hopefully I've not written anything that would be egregiously unlikely or incorrect for my head canon of Enjolras being grey-A. If I have, please inform me!
> 
> If this goes over well, I plan on doing more with this universe. ;u; I hope you all enjoyed!


End file.
